


Dogsitting

by NotRyanRoss



Category: Bandom, Music RPF, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mikey Does Not Think About Frank's Boner, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotRyanRoss/pseuds/NotRyanRoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six easy rules to follow when dealing with a werewolf Frank Iero. (Note: Only applies if you are one Michael James Way).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dogsitting

Rule #1;  
 _Make sure there's plenty of meat in the fridge._

Mikey squinted at the sticky note on his Anthrax poster. It was far, far too early for this particular breed of bullshit but he'd agreed to stay alone with Frank for a week while Gerard went to speak to Dark Horse in New York. Because yeah, he was a brilliant little brother who babysat Gerard's best friend for his big brother's art career.

He normally left the two to it during the week before the full moon, but his brother had practically begged him to stay, and he'd caved. And now he had a how-to manual in his fucking house, like he hadn't known about all this beforehand. To be fair, Mikey supposed that it could be helpful. If Gerard hadn't written all of his instructions in pink glitter pens.

Mikey didn't actually think about the full moon week in detail, because usually Gerard encouraged him to go on holiday for that week. He huffed at the note, tore it off the poster, and made his way down the stairs. He could handle a werewolf, Frank was just a big puppy dog. There was nothing to be worried about except maybe the price of the meat itself. Expensive shit.

Frank had taken over the attic when he moved in, and Gerard had the basement, so Mikey kept the first floor. It was nice enough, he supposed. They all fit together pretty well, and Frank and Mikey worked nights with Gerard staying at home most of the time, so they usually had the day to spend time together if they weren't sleeping. It was a nice co-existence, and Frank settled in with the Ways like he'd been born to. Mikey tried not to think about what Gerard and Frank got up to behind closed doors.

Mikey shuffled into the kitchen, scratching his bare hip, when he saw Frank bent over the counter. _Day One, doing well so far_ , he narrated in his head. _Iero seems normal, I don't know what Gee was even w-_

"Hey, Frank?"

He got a grunt in reply, which was out of character enough (usually Frank wound bound over for a sloppy kiss or something), but then he noticed Frank was eating raw meat. A bit of blood hit the tiles, making a splat as it did. Mikey looked at it, then back up at Frank, who was licking the blood of his lips. It occured to Mikey in his pre-coffee phase that this wasn't very vegan of Frank. Eating meat, especially raw meat, was decidedly un-vegan.

Not to mention Frank was only in a tight pair of black boxer briefs.

"Dude," he said.

Frank narrowed his eyes at him, eyes glinting a worrying gold colour. That was decidedly not normal either, and maybe he didn't have this in the bag. It occured to Mikey that he didn't actually know anything about werewolves besides what he'd read in those trashy fantasy romance novels.

"Dude," he said again, trying to act normal and retrieve his cup of coffee.

Frank made a low rumbling noise in his chest when Mikey stretched past him for the coffee beans, and Mikey jerked back like he'd been burned. What the _fuck_? He hadn't signed on for this _attitude_.

"Fucking hell, did you just _growl?_ "

Frank's eyes widened fractionally like he'd just realised what he'd done and he pushed past Mikey and stomped upstairs, leaving Mikey completely bewildered. And needing to go to the store, because he was fairly sure Frank had just eaten all the meat they had and he'd been looking forward to a sandwich of some description. Looked like peanut butter and jelly would have to do.

An hour later he went shopping, and bought a ridiculous amount of meat in the cart. And didn't think about Frank's boner while buying the sausages.

Rule #2;   
_Keep the temperature down._

Mikey raised one eyebrow at the pink sticky note on the ceiling light. He'd only noticed it when he flicked the light on, had torn it down to read. How had Gerard gotten it up there, he was like six inches smaller than Mikey. Why the temperature? What did that have to do with Frank being furry for a week? He shrugged and tossed the note away. It didn't feel too warm, but who knew. Mikey didn't know anything about temperature, he barely felt it at all.

Frank hadn't spoken to him at all. Mikey could have been hurt by that, but he wasn't that kind of person. Frank was just...on his wolf period, that was all. Maybe he'd want chocolate, or a beer. That's what Mikey had done for his high school girlfriend when she was on her period.

He went upstairs to the attic.

"Frank. You want a drink?"

The lump under the covers let out a noncommittal grunt. Clearly Frank still wasn't feeling sociable. Mikey sighed and made his way over to the bed, prodded at the lump. He got another grunt in return and refrained from sighing. With a sharp tug the covers were removed and Frank's sweaty body was revealed. Frank's sweaty, deliciously tattooed _naked_ body.

Mikey didn't close his eyes fast enough and the image of the lean muscles on Frank's body, the swallows at his hips and...further, flickered in his mind even without the continuing visual. Frank's hair was long now, dark strands glued to his neck and ink. Mikey couldn't stop thinking about the long arch of his spine, the slackness of his mouth. It was like the embodiment of porn itself, and it hadn't quite sunk into his brain that Frank was really _very_ attractive until now.

He opened his eyes and gold pupils eyed him back.

They didn't say anything and Mikey felt like maybe he was blushing. Frank had splotches of colour high up on his cheeks, where his face was visible behind his hair.

Nah. Probably just the tempera-

" _Shit_ ," Mikey said, speeding out of the room to turn down the thermostat.

He didn't actually return to Frank's room after that, even though he was pretty sure Frank couldn't read minds and tell that Mikey was eyeing off his boner. It wouldn't hurt to go...do something for the rest of the day. So he called up Alicia and they met for coffee, and Mikey didn't talk about Frank Iero at all the entire time. Or Frank's boner.

Rule #3;  
 _Do NOT watch anything violent, or gory, in the house._

"Frank, you coming down to watch TV? There's a new movie on."

There was a crash from upstairs and a clatter and then Frank was padding downstairs, looking decidedly more human than he had for the past few days. He was wearing pants, for one, but with Frank that was a take-it-or-leave-it kind of thing. His hair was tucked behind his ears, and his jeans were green (where had he gotten those?) and he looked like an elven prince.

"Hey," Frank said, voice kind of scratchy like he'd been screaming.

"Hi. Movie?"

"Sure," and he went to sit in the huge armchair but Mikey gave him an imploring look and he paused. "What?"

Mikey and Gerard had no boundaries, and Gerard and Frank had no boundaries, so Mikey was inclined to assume he and Frank didn't have any either. Hopefully. He scooched back on the couch and pointed to the spot between his denim-clad legs. Frank raised an eyebrow in a delicate arch.

"What?"

"I want to braid your hair. You look like an elf."

"You serious, Way?" Frank paused a moment and then laughed. "Yeah, sure."

He sank down between Mikey's legs and patted one socked foot, not commenting on the pig pattern on aforementioned socks. So Gerard wasn't the only one that liked dumb socks. Whatever. Mikey combed a hand through the soft hair, smoothed it out a bit.

"What're we watching?"

"I want to catch up on that new gay rom-coms," Mikey said decisively. He may have kind of failed at the last instruction, but this one had been stuck to the toilet seat so it was probably very important.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Really?"

Mikey hummed assent, didn't say anything about the horror marathon on the other channel. The flamboyant man on the television made himself a flower crown, Frank groaned, and Mikey began neatly braiding the hair behind his ear. It made Mikey forget about the werewolf thing, about the weird (and kind of hot) things that had happened, because this was comfortable. It was just Mikey and Frank, not Mikey and Frank and the wolf and the _weirdness_.

"There," Mikey said.

"Shh, the guy's getting married," Frank answered distractedly. "And keep doing that, it's nice."

Mikey smirked and patted a hand through his hair again, scratched Frank's scalp lightly. Frank leaned back into it and his eyes were half-closed with pleasure and he made a noise in the back of his throat and _whoops_ , there was the weirdness and the wolf back.

Mikey looked down at Frank's lap and there was another _whoops_. He did not think about Frank's very obvious boner. Not once.

Rule #4;  
 _Take him out for a run somewhere deserted or he'll go mad. DO not let him in public._

"Stay here. I mean it," Mikey ordered.

Frank looked affronted from his spot in the passenger's seat, where he was sticking his head out the window and sniffing. Mikey was not amused. He'd found the fourth note on the steering wheel, and had barely managed to crumple it in his fist before Frank saw. He wasn't too sure how his apparent charge would feel about this entire stick note-rule situation.

"You're just going to McDonald's, dude," Frank argued.

"Stay, Iero."

"Suck my ass, _Way_."

Mikey pushed his sunglasses further up his nose and tried to look generally rather unimpressed. He'd woken up with a golden-eyed, ridiculously energetic Frank, who had been nearly crawling up the walls. It was after Frank had tried to get a piggyback out of him that Mikey had decided it was time for a walk. Frank didn't seem pleased at the idea of a McDonald's picnic, however.

Mikey made his way up to the counter and ordered food, ignored the old lady staring at him and the little kid asking their mom why 'that man's knees look funny.' He leaned back, unlocked his phone, and suddenly there was a body pressed all along his side, warm and soft. Frank's hand twisted in Mikey's jumper and held on tightly.

"I told you to stay in the car," Mikey hissed.

"I _know_ ," Frank said miserably. "I just couldn't stay cooped up any longer. I was going to die, Mikeyway."

"Uh. Frank, are you-"

"I can smell _everything_ ," Frank groaned.

"What?"

"You don't know what it's like, it's so fucking _overwhelming_. I can smell what that woman ate for dinner last week, I can smell separate chemicals from the paint on the walls, I can smell that you jerked off."

Mikey froze. "What?"

"I can smell that you're _turned on_."

Fucking _hell_.

Frank made a soft noise that was echoed by Mikey in the back of his throat, nosed at Mikey's bare neck. Mikey struggled not to shudder, let his eyes flutter shut as teeth grazed his throat. Hot breath hit his skin and Mikey sucked in a breath, stiffened slightly. It was hotter than it should be, that Frank knew exactly what his body was doing by smell alone.

"Order for Way!"

Mikey's eyes snapped open again and he pushed Frank away, knocking him to the ground. _Shit_. He'd just allowed Frank Iero to sniff him in public and he'd been aroused by it. He grabbed the greasy food bag handed to him and stalked past the people, only stopping to bark Frank's name before storming out.

Frank followed him to the car and Mikey tried not to think about Frank's boner. 

Rule #5;  
 _He gets restless a lot (see earlier note) He probably won't be able to sleep, stay up with him?_

Mikey made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. Frank had been avoiding talking to him all day, and at first he had been mildly concerned he'd hurt Frank earlier, but no. Frank was just avoiding him like the plague, even as he'd thrown most of his clothes off and started prowling around the house again. Mikey was kind of impressed; the house wasn't that big.

Also, he was pretty sure Frank was on the phone to Gerard.

He tore the note into quarters and threw the pieces out the window, watched them flutter to the ground. Like he needed more rules to be fucking terrible at implementing. Frank could entertain himself; and Mikey realised with a jolt that he wasn't Gerard. He couldn't be perfect for Frank because his brother was already that. Mikey was always just going to be...Mikey. He closed his eyes and went back to the warm clutches of sleep determinedly.

Distressed breathing woke him up.

Which was funny, because technically he shouldn't have been able to hear Frank breathing at alk but he could. Probably because Frank was in the corridor outside Mikey's room, and when Mikey opened his bedroom door he was greeted with the sight of Frank curled into a fetal position. He was still breathing like he was running a marathon and these weren't arousal noises or troubled lungs noises, these were _distressed_   noises.

"Frank?"

Frank whimpered.

Mikey knelt down on the cool floor, tried to see his face. "Frank. What's going on?"

"It won't _stop_ ," came the muffled reply.

"What won't stop?"

" _Everything_."

And Mikey didn't understand the werewolf thing, and he didn't understand Frank Iero at all, but he understood that at least. He rubbed his thumb along Frank's cheekbone, patted his shoulder comfortingly in an attempt to coax him out of the tight ball. It worked (like it had when Mikey was dealing with Gerard's addiction, like it had when Gerard was dealing with Mikey's) and Mikey let out a quiet sigh.

"Come on."

Mikey returned to his bed and Frank's golden irises glowed briefly at him before he tentatively slipped in beside him. Mikey looped an arm over his waist, buried his face in Frank's hair and breathed in the smell of smoke and apple.

"I'm sorry I'm not Gerard," Mikey said, quiet and muffled.

Frank sucked in a quiet breath, and instead of talking just linked his fingers with Mikey's. "I like you better anyway," he thought he heard Frank say as he drifted off to sleep.

When Mikey woke up, he tried not to think about Frank's boner that was a few inches from their linked fingers.

Rule #6;  
 _It's Frank. Trust yourself with him. He's going to be constantly...you know. Keep up! ;)_

Mikey looked down at the condom attached to the note. Pina Colada flavoured, huh. Why had it been hidden under the coffee machine? More to the point, what did that even _mean_? Trust yourself with him. Mikey trusted himself just fine, he trusted himself to fuck things up.

Probably some metaphorical shit.

Or, at least, Mikey would say that if not for the condom.

He sighed and went back to bed, dropping the condom on the bedside table and trading it for his phone. Frank was still asleep, snoring gently and half-naked, and Mikey slid back in under the covers and enjoyed the warmth while it lasted. Frank rolled over with a snuffle and buried his face in Mikey's armpit while Mikey attempted to text.

_M_ : _what do u mean trust myself with him_

_G: Exactly what I said Mikes :3_

_M: shut up w ur fucking cat emojis why do i need to trust myself with your dog bf_

_G: He's not my boyfriend! He's yours!_

_M: what no he's not why would you think that_

_G:...Seriously, Mikey?_

_M: what_

_G: You take him out on dates and go shopping especially for his vegan foods, and the other day you tried to cook for him and failed miserably but he loved it. You order movies every Wednesday so he'll come down and watch it with you. You went with him for his tattoo even though you're as shit-scared of needles as I am.  Mikey, if you're not dating him, I'm a fucking yellow walrus called Boris._

_M: ...shut up._

_G: :D Have fun! Use the condom!_

Frank woke up when Mikey threw his phone out of the bed. Green-hazel eyes opened sleepily and Frank smiled up at him lazily. Mikey couldn't help smiling back faintly because it was just Frank, not a werewolf. He wondered what Frank was thinking, whether he dwelled on the fact he'd be walking around as a wolf tonight.

"Morning," Mikey greeted.

Frank reached up to run his fingers through Mikey's hair, hook in the blond locks. Mikey opened his mouth to ask a question, to interrogate Frank about their relationship, and then there was a soft press of lips on his. Frank was _kissing_ him, holy shit. Mikey's stomach dropped and his hand slipped up to cup Frank's jaw gently, angle the kiss better. Frank's tongue twined with his, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Mikey couldn't help the moan he let out, and Frank growled and there were thighs pinning Mikey to the bed. _Hot_. Frank broke the kiss with a giggle.

"What brought this on?"

Frank shrugged, slumped down to snuggle closer and sprawl out on Mikey comfortably. Mikey sighed and looped an arm around his waist, traced his fingers where he knew there was ink.

"Mikeyway, I really like you," Frank said after a moment.

Mikey hid his giddy smile in Frank's messy hair. "Really."

"So much." Fingertips grazed his chest, tickled down his ribs.

"I...might like you too," Mikey said, and his teasing got a snort.

"You love me," Frank answered confidently and Mikey though _yeah_ , _maybe I do_.

"Woe is me," he said instead.

Frank huffed, twisted so he could kiss Mikey's chin.

And this time, maybe Mikey did think about Frank's boner after all.

###

Gerard came home to a silent house. The car was still in the garage, so his brother and Frank had to be around somewhere. He glanced up at the sky, at the yellow glow of the full moon. Hmm. He shrugged to himself and fiddled with the keys, finally slotting the right one in the hole and walking into the cool house. Still there were no signs of life anywhere, and Gerard felt a tiny trickle of worry as he wandered through the empty kitchen.

"Mikey? Frank? M-"

Oh.

Gerard went silent when he saw them, clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the laugh.

The television in the living room was playing what looked like the Addams Family Values, and that was the only light in the room. Mikey was sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep and muttering something. His hair was all over the place, leaving no guesses as to what he'd been doing all day. That wasn't out of place, though. The shaggy lump on his calves was.

There was a wolf, kind of small but comfortable sitting on Mikey's legs like he was trying to warm them up. As Gerard walked into the room, the wolf yipped at him and opened shining gold eyes, tilting his face up for a pat. Gerard snickered and petted the shiny black fur, scratched behind an ear.

"I hope you used the condom," Gerard whispered and the wolf pawed at his bright red hair, snuffled.

"And put it in the bin," Gerard added.

The wolf whined.

Gerard sighed, but he was still smiling. "I'm glad you two figured it out," he said, pressing his nose against the wolf's briefly before he left them to it.

"Rule number seven," Gerard mumbled as he closed the basement door behind him and slid down it. "Werewolves mate for life."


End file.
